


fools living in paradise

by orphan_account



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-20
Updated: 2010-10-20
Packaged: 2017-10-12 19:12:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/128144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thursday night at the VMan Fashion Party 2009, Johnny and Drew meet again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	fools living in paradise

By the time midnight rolls around, he's been hit on by at least a dozen boys ranging from flaming to butch, all exceptionally good looking with smooth, tight bodies and cool, fine-boned faces. It's not as many as he was expecting, but then, he hasn't performed yet. He has a feeling the number'll have tripled by the time he goes home.

He warms up a bit more, stretches with his arms against the boards - it's not a hard program, he's breezed through a few full runs in practice. And he likes it, more than he's liked any of his recent competitive ones, and that, he knows, should tell him something, but he isn't quite sure what.

When he pushes his torso down through the circle his arms form, thighs straining, boards icy even through his gloves, someone places their hands on his hips. All instincts yell at him to whirl around and slap whoever it is into oblivion, but he stills his body, makes the motion controlled and slow. They're on the ice. A verbal slap might be the better option, he doesn't want to kill anyone, after all.

It's just Drew, though, whose touch he should have known, except they haven't touched in years, not like this, and Johnny knows he's forgotten a lot.

"You really, really shouldn't do that," he admonishes, turning his whole body in Drew's grip. "I was this close to crying harassment."

"Sorry." Drew seems sheepish. "I suddenly felt this strong urge to protect your ass from all the predatory gazes."

Johnny blinks.

"You were..." Drew takes his hands off Johnny and shrugs, blushing. "Never mind." Or maybe he isn't blushing. It's cold, his cheeks have been reddish since they arrived at the rink. It's hard to tell sometimes.

"Having fun?" Johnny asks and puts his arms around himself. He feels awkward, even more so because this is not how they talk. They've been - friends. It's gotten easier with time, and lately, there have been longer conversations about all kinds of things, not just superficial gossip, about how he's been feeling like everything he does is never enough, about how he misses the days when he could just go out and be in the real world for a while - while a lot of times, he was also so scared of the real world.

"Yeah," Drew shrugs. He grins. "It's fun. Like - I even got propositioned two times. That never happens to me."

A stab of jealousy goes through Johnny, which he suppresses mercilessly. "That's because you always look like you do not want to talk to anyone, under any circumstances, whenever you're at a party," he tries to tease, the tone falling flat.

Drew shrugs again, then winks. "Maybe I just have high standards."

"Yeah." Johnny pulls his arms closer. "Maybe."

"Oh, come on, don't be like that."

"Like what?"

"All moody. You're supposed to be having fun. We're supposed to be stalking Christina, right?"

"She's not even here," Johnny mumbles.

"You don't know that."

"I can feel it in my heart. The distance between us has not shrunk."

Drew rolls his eyes.

"Anyway, the ice'll be cleared in a few minutes. You should get off and pick a good spot for the show."

"I'm looking forward to it."

"I know." Johnny smiles. "Me too."

He manages not to fuck up, which is a relief. He'd have died of shame if he'd fallen on his ass before this particular crowd. He heard the ooohs and aaahs, though, when he did his slide across the ice especially. It definitely helps his battered pride that these people adore him, that he's the star of the evening. It feel fantastic, and it makes it even more fun to show them what he's got, how good he can be, how the music flows through him, every beat.

There's a throng of people who want to tell him how brilliant he was when he gets off the ice, he gets hugs until he's dizzy, someone pecks his cheek, someone cops a feel of his butt - he enjoys himself thoroughly. He only knows some of these people, most faces are unknown, some are rather more famous than others. There's only one person missing in the crowd, and when it starts thinning out, Johnny catches sight of Drew standing a good twenty feet off, talking to a tiny, incredibly slender boy with red pouty lips and angel locks wrapped around his pinky finger. They're just talking, Drew isn't even leaning forward and or close enough to touch, but the boy's intentions are clear enough. Johnny has no idea who he is, but he's clearly revolting and to be hated.

Johnny slowly approaches them. He doesn't want to be that guy - he doesn't want to be Drew's freakish ex-boyfriend who spoils all of Drew's chances to get laid or gets jealous whenever he just talks to someone else. He doesn't even have the right to be pissed anymore, though maybe he has a little right to be pissed if Drew spent the performance flirting with pouty-lips. He claims to be Johnny's friend, after all, and friends pay attention.

Drew spots him first, turns to him with a huge smile and holds out a hand to take Johnny's for a second. "You are the most amazing skater ever. I know quite a few people who didn't believe you could pull that song off. They've all paid up."

Johnny snorts. "Glad I could help your finances out."

"Oh!" pouty-lips gasps and moans a little before popping his pinky out of his mouth with an absolutely filthy sound. He holds his arms out, clearly reaching for a hug. Drew catches his gaze and Johnny can see he's _very_ close to a full-on laugh attack. Johnny rolls his eyes and allows the hug, but just a second before drawing back. "Oh my gosh, you were fabulous!" the boy exclaims. "Oh my gosh, wait till I tell all my friends that I got a hug from Johnny Weir, can I have another one? They'll all be so jealous."

Drew is openly snickering now. Johnny half-glares in his direction and gives the boy a tiny smile. It's very hard not to feel flattered. "I guess?" he says.

"Oh, beautiful, thank you," the boy says and jumps, smacking a kiss on Johnny's cheek during the hug before he untangles them and bounces off, possibly to find his friends and brag.

"That..." Johnny murmurs.

Drew's outright laughing now.

"Shut up."

"He was gushing about you the whole time while we were watching you on the ice," Drew snickers. "How he loves your butt and how perfect your body line is and how you have the most beautiful face he's ever seen and how he'd..."

"What?"

"No, nothing."

Johnny shoves his shoulder. "Come on, you know I live for this shit."

"No kidding," Drew grins. "You're such a narcissist."

"It's not narcissism if someone else said it. And stop trying to change the subject."

"Fine." Drew leans close and over his shoulder, lips grazing Johnny's ear. "... and how he'd love for you to fuck him all night long, because he's sure you have the most perfect dick ever."

Johnny's flush is immediate. "Shut up, he never said that."

"You wanna go ask him?" Drew's eyes are narrowed, calculating. "I bet he'd fall all over himself to... accommodate you."

Johnny snorts and pushes him away. "You're mad."

"Like there haven't been two million other guys already tonight."

"And yet I'm here, aren't I."

For a moment, everything freezes, then Drew closes his mouth.

"Forget I said that," Johnny snaps.

"What -"

"Just forget it."

"Johnny."

"Oh, come on, don't act like you have no idea what I mean, you know exactly what's going on. And we both know I have about a snowball's chance in hell here, so - can we just go on being friends and forget how I just completely humiliated myself?"

"Johnny..."

"Don't fucking 'Johnny' me."

"Fine. Let's go get a drink."

"All right."

They do that. They leave the closed-up premises a while later, but Johnny doesn't want to go home, he doesn't want to have to pull out the extra bedding to make up the couch when before, they'd have just fallen into bed, bodies entwined. He doesn't want to have to think about all of that. He kinda wants to get drunk, so he says, "I know a place."

He does indeed know a place, though it's not quite what Drew expected, not a fancy cocktail bar, definitely off main-street and a bit shady on top, but sometimes it's like an adventure, coming here. Not that he does that often. Galina knows all, and every time he does, he can feel the irritation coming off of her in waves the next day. He's not getting the day off tomorrow, but right now, he doesn't want to think of the consequences. Maybe he'll just tell her he's quitting skating once and for all, over the phone. That'll set her off.

"What are you smiling about?" Drew asks, amused as he gets a lime-shot. Johnny gets tequila. Lots and lots of tequila.

"Just thinking about some stuff. Nothing specific."

"Look - about before -"

Johnny holds up a hand. The bartender left him the bottle. He's going to take advantage of that. "Don't," he says before he puts the bottle to his mouth and takes a few gulps. "I don't want to hear it."

Drew rolls his eyes. "No," he says. "You never do."

Johnny has no idea what that's supposed to mean until they stumble into his apartment, drunk and giggling and with Drew touching his hip, again, like before - a touch that says 'more than friends', a touch that is almost possessive as well as protective. It's that touch that makes him step up on his toes, just a little, Drew's not that much taller, and press his mouth against Drew's, soft and warm and tasting of sharp alcohol.

His heart skips a beat, his stomach turns once, and then Drew's kissing back and the world rights itself on its axis, making him half-stumble into Drew's body, opening his mouth to Drew's tongue, rubbing up against him, wanting, needing Drew to pull him even closer, which Drew does by his butt, hands firm and secure before his thumbs brush the skin below his waistline.

They wake up the next morning, ten minutes apart from each other, both hung-over, with Johnny's head against Drew's shoulder and their legs entwined, dirty and sticky and sweaty and it's all kinds of awkward.

But Drew doesn't say anything mean or cutting, not like he used to, months and months ago, after the break-up, he doesn't look very bothered, just hoists himself up, rubs his eyes and leans over to peck Johnny's mouth before swinging his legs off the bed.

"Are -" Johnny hears his own voice crack on the syllable, tries to clear his head by shaking it. He feels like he's about to put his heart under Drew's boot. "Are you staying for breakfast?"

For a split-second, Drew looks like he's aware that he's about to put his own heart under the same boot, but then his face softens and he nods. "Yeah," he says. "I'm staying."

"Oh."

"And... We can take it from there?"

Johnny takes a breath, feeling like his chest's on fire. "Yes," he says. "I'd - I'd like that."

"All right. Shower now."

"I'll go make coffee."

"Good."

"Uh-huh."

They look at each other for a few more seconds, then Johnny moves, thinks, 'fuck it, he knows anyway' and he's got nothing to lose, after all. Drew kisses back, just like last night, open and accepting. Like he's willing to give it another try.

Johnny's not sure he believes it. But he's willing to try, too.

 

~*~


End file.
